


Damsel in Distress

by TruebornAlpha



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Damsels in Distress, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 23:58:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5985469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: “‘Theo Raeken meticulously licking Stiles Stilinski's blood from his fingers though..." </p><p>This one goes out to the anon who has been sending death/rape threats to the Scerek/Sceo/Sciles fandom for over two years. They flood Steter/Steo/Sterek blogs with unwanted prompts and since they're so desperate for them, we've decided to help them out by writing a few...just not in the way the troll was hoping. For more info or to grab some prompts for yourself, check out <a href="http://lolscerekanon.tumblr.com/">Lolscerekanon on Tumblr</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Damsel in Distress

Stiles snarled, dragging himself up to his feet. His ears rang, each dull drop of his pulse sending pain shooting into his skull. Theo just smirked at him, eyes glowing an unnerving bright yellow when they should have been a killer’s blue.

“Awww, what’s the matter Stiles? Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got?”  


The human wiped his lips with the back of his hand and spit the grit and blood from his mouth. “I’ve kicked your ass before, I can do it again.’

Theo just laughed, lashing out so fast that Stiles never saw the fist coming until it connected with his jaw and sent him sprawling back on his ass. He hit the ground hard, gasping for air. The chimera knelt beside him, dragging his fingers through the bloody mess on Stiles’s face. “You think that was an accident? Come on, Stiles. Everyone keeps telling me how smart you are, but I just don’t see it. I was _playing_ you and you fell for every word. All that anger and violence, that “void” inside of you. Felt good to turn it on Scott, right? I got you to turn on your best friend and drive him right into my arms.”

Stiles gasped in pain and anger, hands balled into fists at his sides. He tried to push Theo away, wheezing through his teeth. “I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you for touching him you piece of shit.”  


Theo grabbed him by the jaw, diggings his fingers into the wounds on Stiles’s face until they split open under the pressure, and the human groaned helplessly. “How much slower do I have to say it, Stiles? He’s already mine. It’s a pity you won’t get to see him on his knees for me…”

He slammed Stiles into the ground, so hard the wood beneath his head shattered and blood dripped sluggishly down the human’s nape. Theo took his time admiring his handiwork, slowly licking blood off his fingers, before wiping the rest on the front of Stiles’s shirt, just above his slowing pulse.

“You’ve outlived your usefulness.”    


Theo’s hand closed around Stiles’s throat, cutting the air from his lungs with a punishing grip that was strong enough to break his windpipe, if only he’d gotten the chance. A powerful kick slammed across his skull, knocking him to the ground, and Malia roared.

Theo barely had time enough to shift before the coyote was on him. Claws sliced deep through his chest as she lifted him as if he were on hooks, slamming him down over and over again against the ground until he felt something crack in his skull. She was feral rage, pure and unfiltered without the taint of a weak experimental knock-off. The chimera never stood a chance.

She left him breathing, slowly pulling her nails free from the ruined mess of his chest with a wet _pop_ and rocked back to her feet. It would be easy to kill him and end the threat, the instinct to survive screaming at her to finish him. A coyote would never hesitate to kill a wounded rival if it meant protecting herself, but she wasn’t just a coyote anymore. She was a human, there was a choice to be something better and she had Scott to thank for showing her how.

“Malia?” Stiles voice was ragged and tired as she knelt beside him, worried hands checking his wounds.  


“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” She whispered. Her heart clenched in fear, but Stiles answered with a wry, lopsided grin.

“A little, but it was worth it. I don’t mind being the damsel in distress if it means I get to watch you stomp his ass. It was _hot_.”  


“You’re an idiot.” She hissed, silencing Stiles with a kiss as he pulled her down close.

Stiles let out broken, hurt sounds in protest, but the moment he got to shove his face into Malia’s neck, he fell silent, with a final, contented sigh. She carried him like a bride on her wedding night, and he nipped on her throat. A rush of relief washed over him as Malia stole some of his pain, and Stiles didn’t think he could ever feel so good.

“I missed you,” Stiles whispered. He was dead-tired, but he still fought to curl closer, snuffling against her. “I thought you…”  


“Never.” Malia denied vehemently, running a careful hand down his arm, but her voice softened like she couldn’t help herself. “I would never leave without you.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find Dans's awesome fics [here](http://nevertrustastilesthing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can read Rune's stuff [Here](http://fightingforthepack.tumblr.com/) and find her on tumblr at [ Runicscribbles](http://runicscribbles.tumblr.com)


End file.
